Paths
by ckanime
Summary: A three chapter long songfic that follows Gregor on his last day in New York City. Gluxa and anti-Gluxa themes!


**Paths**

**Song: Carry On My Wayward Son**

**Chapter One: **

_Carry On My Wayward Son_

_There'll Be Peace When You Are Done_

_Lay Your Weary Head to Rest_

_Don't You Cry No More_

**Gregor grasped and creased the edges of a piece of parchment. On it was a blurred picture most likely he would treasure forever, a memory he would never let go. Tears slowly began to trickle out of the corner of his eyes as he began to think of how much the simple photograph meant.**

**On it was an exuberant scene that Gregor and Luxa had shared, a scene they had shared during the turbulent war that had engulfed the underland. In short it was like a beacon to a ship in the middle of a grisly storm.**

**His finger tips lightly touched each and every edge of the beloved photograph in remembrance of the girl he had left behind and loved, and of the city he would soon leave behind and would miss. New York City would soon just be a distant memory, today he would move to Virginia like his mother had sworn, today was his last day of having a chance to return to the underland.**

**And did he spend he spend his last day begging and pleading to stay? No, not at all. In a way he knew this was a good thing, to get a fresh start, to forget about her. As much as he tried to put down the picture on the apartment coffee table, he could not fight the urge to take it along with him.**

**Hesitantly he folded the picture even tighter and moved it to the center of his palm. With a nervous and twitching arm, he dropped the picture into his jean's pocket. His tears grew heavier and began to drop off his chin and land at his feet as soon as he made the decision to keep the picture.**

_Once I Rose Above the Noise and Confusion_

_Just To Get a Glimpse beyond This Illusion_

_I Was Soaring Ever Higher_

_But I Flew To High_

**_Would I ever really be able to let go of Luxa? _Gregor thought. _Could I ever really find love outside of her or even the underland? Am I destined to love her forever, yet never see her again? As much as I try to let her go, she always comes creeping back into the depths of my mind._**

_**But really do I want to let go of Luxa? She is stunning and cares for me… why would I want to let go of that? I know I won't see her again anytime soon, but at the very least I won't let the flame die.**_

**A torn subject in Gregor's heart was debating in his head once again_. What path to take? What path is the right path, what path leads astray? _To let go or to love, always a heated battle being waged in his cluttered head with never a clear winner.**

_Though My Eyes Could See I Still Was a Blind man_

_Though My Mind Could Think I Still Was a Madman_

_I Hear the Voices When I Am Dreaming_

_I Can Hear Them Say_

**Gregor began to pace over to the murky window that solemnly watched the pitiful scene unfold. His fingers dug into the wall, chipping away at the plaster. His face pressed tightly onto the checkered window and winced at the sudden shock of cold this rainy day had brought. His eyes scanned the drenched curve for his parents, his sisters, and his weak and terminally ill grandma all anticipating the arrival of his aunt and uncle in their gas guzzling SUVs to pick them up and whisk them away. **

**He was relieved and sighed as he realized they were still waiting, their luggage and his stacked untidily in a pile by decrepit wall.**

**His head reluctantly left the surface of the refreshingly cold window, leaving a pattern of overlapping checkers etched onto his cheek. His fingers uncurled from the surface of the wall leaving traces of plaster under his grimy nails. Momentarily he was at peace, then the thought of the photograph flooded his mind and the disputing voices returned for another brawl. Tears returned and began to roll down his cheeks just like the climate he was suffering, not a good sign of jubilant days to come.**

_Carry On My Wayward Son_

_They'll Be Peace When You Are Done_

_Lay Your Weary Head to Rest_

_Don't You Cry No More_

**Gregor's feet slowly began to trudge over to the door. His hand outstretched he clutched the door knob. His head bent over to let the remaining tears fall down and his puffy red eyes dry up. Perhaps he could cloak and conceal his sorrow for his parents to at least make an attempt to uplift the situation of leaving.**

**His fingers tightened around the dull, withering, cheap metal knob. He took a heavy breath to attempt to soothe himself, his brown hair hanging loose from his scalp. Reluctantly, he opened the door and ambled down the seeped apartment hall. His hand finally touched the stair way rail and he began his descent down to his parents.**

**Behind his apartment door creaked shut gradually, sealing off Gregor from the memories and life he was now leaving behind.**

_Masquerading As a Man with a Reason_

_My Charade Is the Event of the Season_

_And If I Claim To Be a Wise Man_

_It Surely Means That I Don't Know_

**Step by step, flight by flight, slowly Gregor was approaching his family. Each floor he passed by he could at least remember one person he would miss, or a good memory that took place there. He went down one more flight of stairs then came face to face with his anxious family, watching him approach.**

**Gregor's dad had creases and worry lines plaguing his face like flies swarming a lamp. Half heartedly, Gregor's dad raised his hand and waved. "Hello, Gregor. I think you're Uncle Jim and Aunt Bessie will be here soon. Can't you wait to get away from it all," Gregor's dad said in a somewhat cheerful voice.**

**_Get away from it all?_ Tears began to flood back into Gregor's eyes. He had failed utterly to appear nonchalant about the situation. How easy could he be set off by such simple words all finding some way to relate to Luxa.**

_On A Stormy Sea of Moving Emotion_

_Tossed About I'm Like A Ship On The Ocean_

_I Set a Course for Winds of Fortune_

_But I Hear the Voices Say_

**Gregor stood in line motionless, only occasionally moving to wipe a tear. His right hand dove into his pocket and jumbled around searching for the picture. Finally he found the neat photograph tucked away in a corner of his pocket, flooding him with mixed emotions. Briefly Gregor observed his surroundings to find little Boots slouched on a wooden foundation that held up part of apartment, sobbing like crazy.**

_**Look at me. I'm twelve and crying about my last day in New York City and a hopeless last chance to see a girl while my little three year old sister has to deal with a situation somewhat like mine. Why should I be pitying myself rather than comforting?**_

**Gregor marched over to Boots and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Is everything all right, Boots?"**

**She whimpered and tucked her little head into her lap and softly uttered, "I don't want to leave, Gregor."**

**"Neither do I, Boots," he whispered as he patted her on the back lightly.**

**Suddenly it came clear to Gregor. If he really didn't want to let go just like boots he had to say something to Luxa, perhaps by dropping a message on a piece of paper through the grate. Most likely his aunt and uncle would not be here for awhile, and that would give him time to work. Maybe if he rushed a bit he could get it in…**

_Carry on my Wayward Son_

_They'll Be Peace when you are done_

_Lay you're Weary Head to Rest_

_Don't you cry no More_

**Quickly, he dug through his pants pocket and came out with a nearly inkless pen and a crumbled piece of paper. He leaned forward, wrapped his arm around the small sheet of paper, and went to work on thinking of what to say.**

_Carry on You'll Always Remember!_

_Carry on Nothing Equals the Splendor!_

_Now your Life's no Longer Empty_

_Surely Heaven waits for you_

_Carry on my Wayward Son_

_They'll be piece when you are done_

_Lay You're Weary Head to Rest_

_Don't you Cry (Don't you cry) no More!_

* * *

OOC: First Story for this site! I really hope you liked it but feel free to critique, especially on my grammar and spelling, I get lazy after awhile on spelling and grammar.


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